Memento Mori

By Ellen Foster

The first signs of early spring have begun to blossom in the year l392, and the Lady Apollonia is living in the home of her third husband in the city of Gloucester. Master Robert Windemere is a wealthy wool merchant and furrier, a former bailiff of the city. Lady Apollonia is faced with the news of the death of her fourth son when his squire is finally able to return to her in fulfillment of a vow to his master. Losses in her personal life are echoed by an outbreak of major crime and murder in Gloucester, led by the most fiercely inhuman villain the Lady has ever encountered. Apollonia and her husband must deal with the realities of schism within the church and Wycliffe’s insistence upon reform. The Lady takes up the challenge to safeguard those who serve her and find a way to rid Gloucester of vicious criminals who enjoy powerful protection.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Oct 8, 2012
• ISBN: 9781300272892

Book preview

Memento Mori

Memento Mori

By Ellen Foster

2012

Copyright © 2012 Ellen Foster

First published in United States by Lulu Press, Inc. in 2012

Revised in 2015

Maps and cover photographs by Louis Foster

ISBN 978-1-300-27289-2

Learn more at http://blogs.valpo.edu/ellenfoster/http://blogs.valpo.edu/ellenfoster/

Table of Contents

Memento Mori

Foreword

Lady Apollonia West Country Mysteries

Acknowledgements

Map: Lower Severn Valley

Map: Gloucester in 1392

Map: South Gate and Chapel of Saint Kyneburgh

Prologue: Bid Time Return

Chapter 1: Laston’s Tale

Chapter 2: Danse Macabre

Chapter 3: Bloody Memories

Chapter 4: Old Friends, New Loves

Chapter 5: Lollards and Hypocrites

Chapter 6: David’s Return

Chapter 7: A Baron’s Son

Chapter 8: Return to Aust

Chapter 9: Master Foster Comes to Gloucester

Chapter 10: Farewell Counsellor and Friend

Chapter 11: Blessed is She Who Considers the Poor

Chapter 12: Saint Kyneburgh’s Healing Well

Chapter 13: Master Robert’s Welcome

Chapter 14: Sanctuary Scorned

Chapter 15: The Bayliff’s Testimony

Chapter 16: Remember You Must Die

Chapter 17: The Lady in Waiting

Chapter 18: Devoted to Revenge

Chapter 19: Employed to Discover

Chapter 20: Affinity Restored

Chapter 21: Foul Womb of Night

Chapter 22: Medusa’s Curse

Chapter 23: Shameless Woman

Epilogue

Glossary

About the Author

Foreword

Gloucester is another of England’s extraordinary cities. It is obviously a contemporary city in the best sense of that word but also one offering great antiquity and significant contributions to the ongoing history of Great Britain. In trying to describe Gloucester in 1392, however, I sought to help my readers see the city as it would have been then: a medieval walled city with major city gates providing entry through its walls.

I have chosen to name Gloucester’s guild hall by its medieval term, the Bothall, meaning a covered market or the Gild Hall because it was also the centre for the Gild Merchants. On the other hand, I have used modern names for the main streets of Gloucester rather than the medieval forms of the city’s street names. This was done only to make the streets and their directions understandable to modern readers.

Lady Apollonia West Country Mysteries

by Ellen Foster

Effigy of the Cloven Hoof

Plague of a Green Man

Memento Mori

Templar’s Prophecy

Joseph of Arimathea’s Treasure

Acknowledgements

I am very grateful to friends and family members who have been willing to read copies of the manuscript and share their comments with me. It is difficult to offer adequate thanks to everyone, but their suggestions have all been helpful to me. Our friends and neighbours, Ethelyn Rezelman and Mary Henrichs of Pines Village, as well as my PEO sister, Ellen Corley, were welcome readers of the early draft of the novel. Philipp Brockington contributed many important observations, while Kathleen Mullen and her writers’ group offered helpful comments during the process of rewriting.

Among my English readers, David Snell of Exeter regularly sent important points for me to consider. I also received consistently helpful answers to my persistent questions from Philip Moss, resident author of Historic Gloucester.

Representatives of the clergy on this side of the Atlantic who were willing to be early readers were Edward Little, Bishop of the Episcopal Diocese of Northern Indiana, Fr. Patrick Ormos and his wife, the Rev. Kris Graunke of San Antonio, Texas.

I especially wish to express my sincere thanks to our family. Annette Aust has not only read the most recent manuscript, she has been among the first readers of all of the storied adventures of Lady Apollonia. Our son, Ted, and his wife, Marilyn, have provided help in reading the manuscript as well as adding their loving support. Our son, Charlie, and his wife, Shelly, contributed their suggestions as important readers and punsters. Most of all, I am grateful to my precious better half, Lou, for his computer skills and gracious willingness to reread endless rewrites.

Map: Lower Severn Valley

Map: Gloucester in 1392

Map: South Gate and Chapel of Saint Kyneburgh

Prologue: Bid Time Return

There must be some way to find her in this knotty city. She will understand what he has done. She will give him shelter and food. Great God in heaven, he was so hungry. He had gone first to her home village of Aust, but there he could fine no one able to help him. The Lady’s steward was visiting nearby farms. Her chaplain was gone from his cottage. Finally, Alwan, the Lady’s Welsh forester, had told him that Master Aust had died nearly two years before. Lady Apollonia of Aust was now remarried and living in Gloucester. Her new husband’s residence was somewhere near the quay, Alwan thought. But he knew little of Gloucester and could only recommend that Laston seek help from the locals. Surely, everyone in Gloucester would know the residence of Robert Windemere, the wealthy furrier and former bailiff.

Alwan, with his scarred, twisted, and permanently smiling face, was best suited when alone in the countryside he told Laston. He had little insight into the ways of those who lived in England’s big towns. Kind-hearted and gentle, Alwan had fed Laston his last meal two days before and assured him that good folk in Gloucester would surely help him. Alwan assured Laston most of all, that their Lady Apollonia would rejoice to see her son’s squire returned to England at last.

Once he arrived in Gloucester, Laston could see that his appearance immediately turned away respectable people whom he encountered on the streets. His hair was long and ill-kempt; his clothes were ragged and his boots worn to clumsy shreds. He looked nothing like the proud squire he had been when serving Lady Apollonia’s fourth son, Sir Alban. His beloved master and friend had given him all the money they had when he knew he would die. But those funds, meticulously spent, were long gone. Now, Laston knew he could only be seen as the scurviest of beggars.

Many months before while struggling to get home from Europe, he had sold their horses; first to go was his own precious Acorn whom he loved as dearly as a brother. Eventually, he had been forced to try to sell Master Alban’s destrier to buy ship’s passage home to England, only to learn that much of the money he needed so desperately for his journey was counterfeit. The great purse given him as payment for the knight’s horse contained good coin of the realm on its top layers, but beneath a second layer of leather, the coins it contained were lead. How could I have been so simple? Laston would shout at himself each time he thought of his foolish, trusting nature.

The man who sought to buy Sir Alban’s warhorse told Laston that he too was an English knight who had also served in Prussia and insisted he knew Alban of Aust as a brave and worthy warrior. Laston revealed to him his sacred duty now was to return to England and take his master’s last remains to his mother. The squire constantly carried on his own person the lovely crystal vessel containing Sir Alban’s heart, preserved in oil. He even held it near to him through the nights as he slept.

The counterfeit knight seemed to offer him heartfelt sympathy for taking on this worthy task. He told Laston that all of English chivalry would proclaim his journey a sacred quest. He bought the young squire a meal and too many goblets of wine. All the while, he urged him to continue to tell him of Sir Alban’s final struggle which tragically was not on a battlefield but began in a wretched inn.

Laston told the Englishman that the German innkeeper threw them out when it became clear Master Alban was afflicted with blue sickness. No one would come near them, not a physician, nor a priest. Not even a local rustic would offer willing hands to help Laston prepare the grave of his master. The young squire had been so lonely and abandoned in Prussia that he poured out his heart to the English knight until he fell into an exhausted sleep. When he awoke at the break of dawn, he discovered himself to be forsaken again. Sir Alban’s destrier was gone with all of his master’s gear. Laston was left with one treasure only, the beautiful reliquary containing the preserved heart of Sir Alban of Aust.

In July of 1390, Sir Alban, with Laston as his squire, had ridden north to join Henry of Derby, Thomas Swinford, and their gathering company of knights, esquires, and servants who sailed from Boston, on the east coast of England, to Prussia and Lithuania. The fourth of Lady Apollonia’s sons was thrilled to be going to Europe to join the Teutonic Knights in their crusade against the heathen Slavs of the East. Alban Aust was newly knighted at nineteen, stalwart, well schooled in arms by his uncle, Ferdinand, Earl of Marshfield, and yearning to prove himself in battle.

Sir Alban had given Laston Baker the opportunity of his lifetime. He trained Laston in the use of arms, taught him the manners, courtesy, and speech of the upper classes, and made him his personal squire. It was an extraordinary move in social class for the poor baker’s apprentice from Exeter. Fully equipped as knight and squire, they were actually going off to fight with the proudest warriors in all of Christendom. Laston was convinced his life’s dream had come true.

The young Englishmen were first lodged in Marienburg Castle, the seat of the Grand Master of the Teutonic Order, from whence they waged war against the Slavs. As a young knight, Alban achieved whole hearted admiration from his fellows in arms, not only for his skill with the sword but also because of his intensity of purpose, his unwillingness to give up the chase.

Sir Alban was not impressed by the Teutonic Knights. He felt they were organising fewer military campaigns and more desirous of becoming a powerful trading organisation. More and more, Alban told Laston he thought the Knight’s role was aiming toward the protection and support of the wealthy burgers of the Hanseatic League cities, not the conversion of pagans to serve Christ.

Sir Alban and Laston remained in Prussia more than a year. Alban was a mighty force in battle, but even as a robust, powerfully built young warrior, he had no means to defend himself against the world’s most dreaded enemy. It carried no weapons but bore in its grotesque wake a disgusting, deadly evil; plague swept through Prussia on the apocalyptic pale horse of death.

Laston had no idea how long he had been struggling to make his way back to England’s West Country. He learned that during the years that had passed his master’s Lady Mother had moved to the home of her third husband here in Gloucester. Surely my Lady will remember me, Laston tried to reassure himself. Lord God in Heaven, let it be so. Only she could relieve him of this burden he had born in utter loneliness. Lady Apollonia would not only welcome him home, she would grant him the peace and wholeness he desperately longed to have restored to his life.

It was a beggar of Gloucester who helped him, at last. The man was old and bent, but he had obviously been well-fed on that day. Aye, lad, Oi knows of the Windemere ouse. They gives food ev’ry evenin and they’ll elp thee, Oi’m certain. Many’s the mouth who’ll find good eatin at there door.

Laston had entered Gloucester late in the afternoon through the South Gate into the city, and the beggar told him to continue on towards the High Cross. There, turn yourself on to Westgate Street, lad. Then, pass the shops and look for the fine ouse on the street. Go through the garden, round to the kitchen. They’ll treat ye well, lad, Oi vow.

Laston thanked him most heartily and hurried on towards the High Cross as he had been instructed. When he reached Lower Westgate, he knew instantly where to go. It was truly the grandest town house he could see. He knew at once he must not approach its front entrance; he was unpresentable to polite company. Instead, Laston followed the beggar’s advice and walked along the side path into its back garden until he joined the slowly moving line of folk waiting for a meal. He began to feel very weak, and it seemed an age before he finally reached the back kitchen door.

Soon, he told himself, I shall be able to tell the house staff who I am and beg them to describe my errand to the Lady Apollonia. Then, when he finally began to move towards the entrance to his long sought goal, Laston collapsed.

* * *

Nan, Lady Apollonia’s personal maid and chief assistant in all matters of the household, was called into the kitchen by Mary Mathe, the head cook. Beg pardon, mistress Nan, but ye can see we be unable to know what m’Lady would ave us do. The cook turned to point to an emaciated young man lying unconscious in the kitchen doorway, clutching a beautiful crystal vessel to his breast with both hands.

Nan knew immediately that this young beggar must be removed to some place for care. She asked one of the scullery maids to run into the hall to fetch Gareth, the Lady’s stablemaster, from his supper. Gareth took charge quickly once in the kitchen. He simply lifted in his powerful arms the scrawny body, now drawn up into fetal position, and carried him out to the barn. Nan followed Gareth, for everyone in Lady Apollonia’s household knew their mistress and new master would require that any person coming to their door in need must be cared for.

Once inside the barn, Gareth laid the young man’s body on a thick bed of straw in the nearest empty stall. Then, he turned him onto his back and brushed away the long blonde hair covering his face.

This lad be near to starvin, Nan. Oi believe we must feed im some broth soon as we can bring im round.

Nan leant over the rail of the stall to take a closer look. I pray thee, Gareth, push away the hair covering his face once again. I believe I may know this lad. As Gareth bent over the ragged young body once more, Nan walked into the stall to look more closely.

Mother of God, Queen of Heaven, can it be? Gareth, I must summon my Lady. It is he; I do believe it is Laston Baker, Sir Alban’s squire.

Nan began to run from the barn even while she spoke to Gareth, through the kitchen and into the great hall of Windemere House. The minstrels were playing a well-loved air when she entered, and the household was largely silent, listening to their romantic melody floating down from the loft on the hallscreen. Nan went quickly but quietly to the head table and whispered into her Lady’s ear. The Lady Apollonia stood immediately and begged need to be excused by her husband and their guests. She moved in stately grace with Nan behind her towards the entrance to the kitchen. She began to walk more rapidly once inside the walls of the kitchen towards the outside door and then went out into the back garden. The line of those still waiting to be fed at the kitchen door stepped back to allow her passage. Once in the garden, the Lady lifted her skirts and ran into the barn, not stopping until she reached the stall where Gareth stood.

Apollonia looked down upon the frail young man lying in the straw. She fell to her knees and put her hand to his forehead with no word of intent but breathing a great sigh of relief. My dear Laston, it is you, she cried.

* * *

Laston found himself lying in a warm bed in the servants’ hall next to the kitchen when he returned to consciousness. He was propped up by several large cushions and being urged to sip the warm broth Nan was ready to spoon into his mouth. She added bite-sized pieces of dark bread soaked in the broth to hold in his mouth, chew, and swallow slowly. The aching yearning for sustenance in his stomach began to ease and be replaced by a fullness he had not experienced for months. Finally, he was offered a flagon of strong ale.

The bread and broth were delicious to him and the ale tasted like a gift from heaven. Suddenly, he startled upward from his pillows, remembering the crystal vial he had struggled all these miles to bring to his master’s mother in Gloucester. He heaved a great sigh of relief when he saw it sitting upon the chest nearest to his bed.

Mistress Nan, Laston said while he forced himself to sit up in the bed, I must speak with my Lady Apollonia. I must tell her what has befallen us.

Rest yourself, Laston, Nan said while pushing him gently back on to the pillows. My Lady has been to see that it is truly you. She rejoices that you are home and has gone to the chapel to give thanks for your safe return to us. Now, she insists that you must rest. She gives you her solemn promise that she will return to speak with you on the morrow. Pray, settle yourself. She will come to you.

Obediently, Laston finished his meal, expressing with each spoonful his heartfelt gratitude to the Lady Apollonia’s maid, Nan. He found it difficult at first to lie at rest when Nan left the chamber. Laston looked with sincere wonder about the secure warmth and comfort of the chamber where he lay. For the first time in days, his stomach was free from aching hunger, and the opiate given him after his meal began to draw him into the depths of a long sought, safe harbour’s sleep. Laston tried silently to offer prayers of sincere thanks, but his unspoken words of praise and thanksgiving seemed to draw him more deeply into the welcome arms of God’s peace.

Chapter 1: Laston’s Tale

Robert Windemere was on edge. His lady wife seemed to have been gone too long from their celebratory meal and their guests. He knew Apollonia well, and this unexplained behaviour of abandoning their guests was unlike her. Robert and Apollonia had known each other for the latter half of the twenty-six years of her marriage to Edward Aust. In truth, Robert knew he had loved Apollonia long before the days of his first wife’s illness and death, ten years earlier. He was a good man who respected his wife’s memory and the obvious love that Edward and Apollonia shared with each other. He waited for nearly a year after Edward’s death before he spoke to Apollonia of his feelings for her. She had told him, at first, that she respected and admired him but could not ignore the gaping wound Edward’s death had left in her heart.

Robert was patient and understanding, and at last in this year 1392 when he was fifty-eight and she was forty-five, she accepted his proposal. Their marriage had happened in January of this year and Robert found nearly every meal they had together a celebratory one. He brought friends to their home regularly. He was so grateful to be able to introduce the Lady Apollonia as his wife. He had never known such love before, he told himself. Apollonia was at once his best friend, loving admirer, and physically one body with him.

Robert could tell that she had been deeply troubled by something when the Lady returned to the great hall that evening. Her voice quivered slightly as she tried to whisper to him that after their guests had departed, she had extraordinary news to share. Robert also grew uneasy. He strained to wait patiently and maintain conviviality until they had bid goodnight to their fellow merchants and friends. Finally, when their last guest departed, Apollonia and Robert were able to ascend alone to their bed chamber.

The fire in the chamber fireplace had been stirred, and its space was filled with welcome warmth. They took their seats next to each other on a bench in front of the fireplace. The Lady remained silent, as if still shocked by her news. Robert took her hand in his and said very quietly, Apollonia, dearest one, you know that I am grateful each day to be your faithful friend. If your news is too painful to share, I shall wait until you are ready.

Bless you, Robert; you have the kindest heart in all the world. It is precisely because I can turn to you for strength and support that I desperately need to share what has occurred this evening. Apollonia had tears in her eyes, and the expression on her face was one of anxiety tinged with pain. He took her into his arms silently, and they continued to sit closely to each other until she was able to speak once again.

Flames crackled brightly about the logs stacked in the fireplace. Apollonia went on holding tightly to his hand but hesitating to speak, as if she were searching to find the best words. You will remember, dearheart, shortly before Edward died, my younger son, Alban, left England with Henry of Derby to go to Prussia and join the struggle of the Teutonic Knights’ crusade.

Robert nodded and she continued, This evening, whilst we were at dinner, Alban’s squire, Laston Baker, came to our kitchen door. He is only eighteen, but I can see that he has endured great travail to find me. He wears the rags of a beggar, is cadaverous, and in ill health. And, my dear one, he has returned alone. Here she paused. Robert said nothing, only waited for her to continue.

"Laston clutched in his hands a reliquary of sorts, I thought. He collapsed in our kitchen doorway whilst waiting to speak with someone in the household, but he never released the precious vessel. Gareth, thinking him to be a beggar, carried him into the barn where he could lie on the straw in comfort. It was Nan who thought she recognised him and came to collect me. As soon as I saw him, I knew it was Laston, Alban’s squire.

I tried to protect the precious vessel he clutched, even in his unconscious state. I removed it from his hands. Dear God, Robert, it contains a human heart. I believe that Laston’s impoverished struggle to return to England from Prussia has been driven by his need to return Alban’s heart to me. Apollonia lowered her head to Robert’s shoulder. He held her to him while her body quaked with gasping sobs.

Robert continued to embrace her closely, all the while maintaining a subtle strength of reassurance in his voice. Dearest one, he cooed quietly into her ear, we shall presume nothing. The vessel may well be a saint’s relic that is precious to the lad. When he is able, Laston will tell us his tale, perhaps on the morrow. I shall go with you to speak with him. For this night, let us to bed. I will hold you close to me, and we shall pray together that God may grant us both the wisdom to accept all that we must.

* * *

It was late in the morning when Laston finally awoke to find Nan at his bedside once again with more broth and bread to fill his shrunken stomach. Before he would eat anything, he urged Nan to help him speak with the Lady Apollonia. He tried to sit up in bed, but the petite lady’s maid pushed him back to the cushions and told him he must eat first. My Lady requires it, Laston. She says that as soon as you have eaten and have been seen by the doctor of physic who is already here with his almanac in hand, then she will come to speak with you. Remain in this bed, Laston. Your master’s Lady Mother commands it.

Laston could see he was without options. In truth, he had sorely mixed feelings about seeing Sir Alban’s mother. He knew everything that he must tell her would break her heart, and he knew no way to soften its cruel realities. He must fulfill his promise and complete this last task Sir Alban had given him. Then, he would go home, he vowed to himself. Laston’s own mother was dead, but he thought he still had sisters living in Exeter. If he could just get home having made his full confession, pray God, he might find peace within himself. He did not wish to be a warrior any more.

* * *

The sun had reached its noontime heights by the time Laston had seen the doctor of physic, but he was still not feeling strong enough to sit up in bed. Very quietly, Lady Apollonia entered his chamber to introduce Laston to her husband, the merchant and former bailiff of Gloucester, Robert Windemere. They both walked towards the bed where he lay, and when he tried to sit up to greet them, the Lady placed her hand on his shoulder. I pray thee, Laston, lie back. Robert and I only wish to speak with you for a few moments. The physician has told us that you must continue to rest.

Oh, do not go, my Lady, Master Robert; pray allow me to speak with you now. I have carried this burden far too long, and I promised Sir Alban I would not stop until you knew everything.

Robert could see how distressed the young squire became when they suggested they would come another time. So, he called for stools to be placed where Apollonia and he could sit close to Laston’s bed.

Apollonia went on speaking very calmly after they were seated, because her son’s squire had obviously grown agitated, driven by distress. Laston, we are thankful to God for your safe return to us, and we shall continue each day to lift our prayers and praise to Him for this gift.

But, Laston could not accept her welcoming words. My Lady, it has naught to do with me. I know you truly wish to know what has happened to Sir Alban.

You know, Laston, Apollonia chided him, you even sound like my dear Alban. I can nearly recognise his words in your impatient objections. Robert and I are in no hurry. Pray be comfortable first; then you may tell us all that you feel you must.

The Lady’s calm manner reassured Laston. He lay back upon his bed, and Nan pulled the fur coverlet up to his shoulders. When he began to speak, his voice had reassumed the confidence of an experienced squire. I must take you with us to Prussia, my Lady, Master Robert. We were welcomed by the Teutonic Knights and were often used to accompany them on their brutal raids against the Slavic people.

Apollonia and Robert said nothing to interrupt the flow of Laston’s thoughts. He described the horrors of battles that they fought. He spoke of the lack of chivalry that the Teutonic Knights expressed towards those whom they regarded as their pagan foes. He also described Sir Alban’s growing lack of belief in those raids which the Knights insisted they must call a crusade. Sir Alban wanted me to tell you, my Lady, he felt sickened by all that we were required to do, Laston confessed to her.

It was my master’s decision to leave Marienburg Castle and return to England, but we were unable to go far. Laston’s voice grew steadily quieter. We were forced to take rooms in an inn on our way back to the coast, for my master was suddenly stricken by severe weakness, a dreadful headache, and fever. By the time we were in our chamber at the inn, Master Alban was in intense pain. I began to prepare him for bed, and it was then I could see the signs of pestilence come upon him. Forgive me, my Lady, but as I tried to assist his undress, I could see Sir Alban’s body dying from within. He was awash in disgusting, stinking sweat. He began to vomit, and when I bent to help him, I could see that his tongue had turned black. He was gasping for breath, and there were dark blue blotches upon his skin. He told me I must leave him there, but I could not. Master Alban said I must obey him; he knew he was suffering from plague. He had large, painful boils hardening in his groin and armpits. He insisted that I must not come near to his person.

Laston paused for a moment, as if to calm the horror filled memories that surged in his mind. I could do nothing to ease his pain, my Lady, but as Sir Alban slipped into unconsciousness, he urgently begged me to tell you that his last thoughts were of you and his father. He gave me all the money he had and begged me to find my way back to Aust so that you would know how he had died.

Apollonia could see Laston’s agony in forcing himself to remember the grotesque suffering he had witnessed. She felt heartsick to realise what had really happened. Alban saw himself as a warrior. Her gallant young knight had foreseen his possible death on the field of battle but never weakened and disabled by disease.

Laston told her of their being thrown out of the Prussian inn as soon as the symptoms of Sir Alban’s plague were discovered by the owner. He said he was unable to find anywhere to lodge or any person who would help him care for his master.

At the end, my Lady, Sir Alban died lying on the ground with his head resting upon his saddle, in a small wood outside the village. No one would come to our aid. I buried him by myself, but before I could leave him in a foreign land so far from all that he loved, I knew I had to find a way to bring my master home.

Apollonia remained silent and seemed unmoved. Robert reached for her hand and held it in both of his.

Laston now spoke very quietly. He revealed to her that after he had prepared his master’s grave, he knelt beside Sir Alban’s body and cut open his chest. Then, taking a huge breath, his words flowed from the images that never ceased to haunt him. I can not believe what I did, but I knew I had to do it. I used my knife to cut his heart out from his body with my own hands. It had ceased to beat, and it had grown cold, my Lady, but I felt as if I were completing the slaughter of the man I loved most in all my life.

Robert could feel Apollonia clench his hand, forcing her nails into his palm. She remained calm as she listened but made no verbal response. She merely continued to nod to encourage Laston. She wished him to tell her everything.

I have begged God’s forgiveness from the moment I knew what I must do, my Lady. I humbly beg your forgiveness as well. Then, Laston took the beautifully decorated glass vial from the shelf next to his bed and gave it to her. Please accept this from the hands of one who loved your son and served him faithfully. I bring it to you because I know Sir Alban longed to rest at home.

Apollonia stood majestically and quietly reached to his bedside so that she might accept Laston’s gift of extreme sacrifice. Robert could not believe the halcyon grace of her movements. She appeared to smile upon Laston and bent to kiss him. She was now beginning to understand, in her own violently aching heart, the full extent of the pain and guilt he had been suffering